


I Found Me In You

by jyayo



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyayo/pseuds/jyayo
Summary: Kim Woojin has the rare ability to see the soulmates of others through their reflections, yet oddly, he has never been able to see his. So when a young man by the name of Bang Chan stumbles into his antique shop, Woojin is dying to know why he, too, possesses no reflection of his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I've been a Stay for just a month but they've got me in so deep that I'm churning out this fic like a machine. Hope you guys enjoy this short story of my bias and bias wrecker!
> 
> And if you enjoy my writing, please leave a kudos and comment (is this how this site works?)
> 
> \- Jae

Woojin never really knew when or how exactly he had gained this ability. As far as he knew, he’s been able to see the soulmates of people through reflections pretty much since he was a kid. His earliest memories of using it was traced back to fourteen years ago, when his happy declaration of “It’s daddy!” at his mother’s reflection earned him a stern look to not let his imagination get the better of him. His father had died a mere week ago back then. Woojin poignantly remembers seeing the soft, warm features of his father smiling back at them through the mirror, and little Woojin wanted nothing more than to reunite their family.  _ Why couldn’t she see him?  _ But at his grieving mother’s aggravated sigh at his insistence, he hesitated, wondering if he should tear open her recently closed wounds. 

 

He was young then, but he was a perceptive child. Whatever he saw through the mirror back then was probably something that should be kept to himself. 

 

It finally clicked for him on his cousin’s wedding a few months later, at a church that was lavishly adorned with fancy mirrors and glass windows. He saw and understood everything, the bride’s happy smile reflected in the groom’s ones, his grandfather watching on with a proud gleam in his eyes, his long-deceased grandmother present in the mirror next to him, even his teenage brother tapping away at his phone with another girl doing the same at the other end, both with silly grins on their faces. Seven-year-old Woojin finally understood that whoever the mirror reflects is the one you’re meant to be with in life. 

 

_ Soulmates _ , he’d later put a name to that phenomenon from a book he’d read in school ( _ ‘The Notebook’  _ he distinctly remembers), the epiphany hitting him like a truck. He thought he had the answer to everything, but one question still remained: 

 

_ Why don’t I have a reflection? _

 

At twenty one years of age, Woojin has ceased to be bothered by it. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of preventing him from being too ‘OP’ (he scorns himself for using a gaming term for the lack of a better description), or maybe he’s secretly a vampire? Maybe he doesn’t even have a soulmate. He’s never really questioned it, preferring to keep his own thoughts to himself, hoping to blend in and draw no attention. 

 

He has, however, found a sole confidant in Hyunjin. While he had never intended to tell anyone about his unique ability, he had accidentally let slip back in their sophomore year in high school when he was unable to watch his own classmate get blindly misled by a notoriously flirtatious cheerleader who spelled nothing but trouble. Woojin had given him an unplanned confession, a hasty explanation and a smack on the head for good measure, but in return gained a loyal, no-nonsense and sassy best friend. He was thankful that Hyunjin had never judged him or attempted to take advantage of him after learning of his skill as he had feared people would. Well, he did ask about his own soulmate once, and Woojin decides that it was best to keep it a surprise, seeing as to how Hyunjin and Jeongin are already building a pretty admirable relationship without Woojin’s interference, “You’re on the right track, buddy.”

 

Since losing the paternal figure in his life, he had learnt to stop investing in his emotions and throw himself into working hard to raise his mother and himself, his brother too busy with a new business in another state and a baby on the way. Outside of school, he’s busy with his part-time shifts, cleaning the house, spending time with his family. His gift has become nothing more than a gimmick, an extra bonus whenever he’s indulging in his people-watching hobby during his rare breaks. 

 

Over the summer he had decided to help his grandfather out at his antique furniture shop, knowing that it was hard for him to be running such a large place at his age. He had thought that it would be a meaningful way to spend the summer break, giving his grandfather a much needed vacation, but he had failed to take into consideration how  _ dreadfully slow _ the business would be. Everyday was a rinse and repeat of waking up, heading down to the store, and playing games on his phone for the next eight hours. Sometimes Hyunjin would visit, but that would just mean Woojin’s game would gain an extra player. Once in a while he’d get a senior citizen that would dwell for an hour or so as they narrate what seemed like twenty years of history, “This was the same kind of vase my mother used before it was destroyed during the Korean War! Did I mention how hard it was…” Woojin has to keep a polite smile fixed on his face while trying his best to not cast longing glances at the open door. 

 

He had quickly learnt that the best way to get them to stop is to bring up the idea of actually  _ spending _ money at his shop (“Would you like to buy this vase, miss?”), and they would be out of the door quicker than Woojin could fathom their knobbly legs taking them. 

 

It was Hyunjin’s idea, Woojin credits.

 

But there were days where his phone games just didn’t appeal to him, or where Hyunjin’s caught up with his own work. On those exceptionally dull days, Woojin finds himself staring at the Victorian full length mirror next to his post at the cash register, which was strategically angled to mirror the passers-by on the street. There, he would watch the people as they interact with one another, learning of their stories as best as he could from the seven seconds it takes for them to pass by his shop, and letting his brain fill in the rest of the missing pieces. 

 

It’s during those times that he was always reminded of the ugly side of his ability. When it gets dark and Woojin starts to close for the day, he would occasionally watch wasted middle-aged businessmen stumbling out of the bar next door, their reflections depicting the worried expressions of their wives. Sometimes he’d see couples blatantly making out at his storefront (because why would anyone be inside an antique shop, right?) and Woojin almost recoils in disgust seeing the male’s true significant other reflected in the mirror, knowing fully well that he was cheating on them because of the couple band they were clearly sporting.

 

Woojin eventually decides that the whole soulmate ordeal is just a load of crap. He’s never one to truly believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters, unlike Hyunjin who basically wears his heart on his sleeve, but he had liked the thought of having one person that you’re truly meant to be with in this world. But even with their significant others, people can still be absolute trash. Even more of a reason for Woojin to seclude himself from the rest of the world, and maybe he’s even a little grateful for not having a reflection of his own, realising that this meant he was spared of any personal emotional attacks.

 

Then why was he feeling so empty?

 

“You really need to get out more,” Hyunjin comments, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I almost feel guilty ditching you for Jeongin every time but at the same time there’s no way I’m bringing him here for our dates. Though the free Wi-Fi is a great perk.”

 

“Geez, I feel the love,” Woojin wryly responds, tossing his friend the backpack from under the counter. Truth to be told, he is grateful that Hyunjin’s always taking time out to spend it with him at his grandfather’s shop, and guilty that he can’t afford to hang out where people his age should be. He promised his mother that he would take care of the shop while his grandfather is off in China for a month-long vacation with his taichi friends, and his good boy reputation didn’t allow him to close up shop for even a day. 

 

Hyunjin catches the backpack and tosses it over his shoulders. “I mean it. Look, your granddad’s coming back in a few days. You’ve committed pretty much your whole life to your family, I think it’s fair that you get a few days off in return, yeah? Come hang out with us, get to know new people. It’s summer vacation for crying out loud. Can you even name someone you’ve met this summer?”

 

“Sure, Mdm Kang’s a nice old lady, gives me snacks every time she visits. Doesn’t buy anything, though.”

 

Woojin has to dodge the incoming swat on the head. 

 

Hyunjin dramatically sighs, withdrawing his hand back to his side. “You’re wasting your youth away, Woojin. You’ve saved me from landing myself in a toxic relationship, and now I’ve gotta save you from this--” he gestures the entire room with his hands, “--place.” He props his elbows on the counter, proceeding to prop his head on his knuckles as he leans towards Woojin. “We need to find you your happiness.”

 

Woojin almost laughs. “Hyunjin, I told you about my reflection.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try,” his friend insists. “Look, I know how you feel about the whole soulmate thing, but not everyone is inherently dickheads. I’ll introduce you to my friends. I’ve told you about Jisung, yes? And Changbin? Well… I think he and Minho have something going on but no harm tr…”

 

“It’s twenty minutes to three, Hyunjin,” Woojin quickly interjects before he could go on rambling. “Don’t keep Jeongin waiting.” His friend yelps in response, scrambling off the counter and starting his way towards the exit. 

 

“Just think about what I said!” he calls over his shoulder. “You can’t find your true happiness by cooping yourself up here in this shop!” Woojin watches as he exits, promptly smacking into a male in a denim jacket. 

 

Woojin rolls his eyes with a smile, watching the flustered aftermath for a few seconds before turning his attention back to his game of Match 3 Repairs (What? He likes We Bare Bears, nothing wrong about that). He was about to unleash the Mad Vac when a text rolls in from Hyunjin.

 

> **14:38 PM | The Superior Jin:** Damn, I take it back, maybe you can find your true happiness here after all.

 

_ What? _   Woojin barely has the time to comprehend what his friend meant when a voice rings out amidst his shop, quiet and tentative.

 

“Uh, hello? This is Kim’s Antiques, right?”

 

Woojin’s head shoots up in surprise, clearly not hearing the customer come in. “Yes, welcome!” he instinctively replies, his eyes landing on the newcomer. It was a man that looked about his age, and it was the same man in a denim jacket that Hyunjin body-slammed into, no less. Woojin’s jaw almost hit the counter. He never had anyone in his demographic visit his shop before, and especially not one that is this…  _ wow _ .

 

Woojin doesn’t know if handsome would even begin describing him. He has Hyunjin for a best friend, and he acknowledges him to be in the top percentage of good-looking male specimens, if the amount of love letters he received in high school was anything to go by. But if Hyunjin has a face of a pop idol, this man looks like he was crafted by the gods themselves. 

 

And he was here! In his shop!

 

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” Woojin almost murmurs out loud deliriously.

 

“Don’t see what?” comes the customer’s curious pique, and Woojin’s blood freezes and the angels stop singing. So he  _ did  _ say that out loud. Hyunjin’s right, he should probably get out more. He’s losing his people skills big time. 

 

“I… uh, I mean, it’s not every day I see a young person like yourself here in my shop,” Woojin quickly fibs.  _ Nailed it, stuck the landing.  _ “So, what can I get you today?” 

 

The customer scratches his head. “Well, I’m looking for a vanity table. Preferably second-hand.”

 

“Oh yeah, we have some of those back here.” Woojin’s work drive kicks in, and he’s quickly shimmying his way out of the counter to show him the way, not before grabbing his precious take-out cup of iced coffee. “Though I’m afraid we might not have anything that might suit… your style?”

 

The customer laughs, a delightful, refreshing noise. “Oh no, it’s not for me. My grandmother’s moving from the countryside to live with us here in Seoul, so we wanted to get her something small as sort of a housewarming gift? To make her feel at home. And you? What’s a young guy like you working here? Are you a part-timer?” 

 

“Nah, this is actually my grandfather’s place. I’m just helping him take care of it while he’s on vacation.”

 

Woojin leads the man to the corner of his rather large shop, past the wardrobes and rocking chairs. He would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t interested in taking a good look at his reflection. Whoever’s his soulmate must be a pretty lucky pers-

 

He halts.

 

Everything freezes around him, the air turning into ice and sending powerful chills running down Woojin’s spine. He has long lost his grip on his iced coffee, the cup slipping from his hands and spilling onto who-knows-where. He stands in front of the mirror, completely floored. Because in all of his 21 years of living, he has only seen this phenomenon once.

 

In himself.

 

Two men stand before the vanity mirror. And Woojin sees nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

> **16:03PM | The Superior Jin:** Well? How was that guy and what did he want? Imagine the shock I had when he asked me for your shop. He looked like he walked out of those flower boy anime Jeongin always watches.  
>  **16:32PM | The Superior Jin:** Hello?  
>  **16:45PM | The Superior Jin:** Guess y'all hit it off then, seeing as to how he’s keeping you busy and all... Don't need little old Hyunjin anymore now do ya?  
>    
>  **22:17PM | Grizz:** Hyunjin...  
>  **22:17PM |** **Grizz:** What does it mean for someone when he doesn't have a reflection?  
>  **22:17PM | Grizz:** Like me?  
>    
>  **22:21PM | The Superior Jin:** What?  
>  **22:22PM | The Superior Jin:** ...I'm coming over.
> 
>  

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I'm so glad to receive such positive responses to the first chapter, it really means a lot to me that you're enjoying it so far!
> 
> Updates will be posted (hopefully) every week.
> 
> -Jae

Woojin needs to stop underestimating his best friend's eccentric tendencies. At least such that when Woojin walks back into his bedroom after a nice warm shower, drying off his hair in nothing but a towel on his waist, he wouldn't be having a heart attack seeing none other than Hyunjin sitting oh-so-comfortably on his bed.

 

"I told you I'll b-- stop screaming --be coming over." Hyunjin casually takes a bite out of a muffin like he's lived here all his life while Woojin scrambles around like a madman trying to shield himself behind his door.

 

"What the fu--"

 

"Your mom loves me," Hyunjin shrugs, completely unfazed. "Muffin?"

 

A few chaotic minutes later, a thankfully clothed Woojin lays in bed, leaning against his headboard pensively while Hyunjin took to pacing around the already cramped space of his bedroom. Woojin tries not to think about how he looks like he’s in therapy, because he would much rather swim with sharks than place his mental health in Hyunjin’s hands. 

 

The taller male comes to a pause, leaning his lower back against Woojin’s desk. “So you looked into the mirror, and saw nothing?”

 

“I SPILLED COFFEE ONTO HIM, HYUNJIN,” Woojin bursts out. Hyunjin blinks at him, stunned for a split second by the sudden confession. 

 

“O...kay, I didn’t think that would be the first on our agenda…”

 

Woojin groans at the memory, his head hitting the wooden headboard with a dull thud.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Oh_ _geez that’s cold_!” the man had hissed those words in English, withdrawing his right foot back a little as his hand futilely swiping away the icy liquid. But Woojin almost didn’t hear him, his gaze transfixed at the sight before him.

 

“Hey, dude, are you okay?”

 

“You… you don’t have one too,” Woojin had dumbly mumbled in response. And without any context, there was clearly no way the man next to him could know what the heck he was blabbering about.

 

“Well, yeah, that’s why I’m here to buy one,” came his baffled reply, clearly still referring to a vanity table, and that seems to snap Woojin out of his trance.  _ I just spilt coffee on my customer. _

 

“Oh my god, I’m so so so sorry,” he starts, darting around the shop for some rugs. He throws two questionably stained ones across the carnage with the mind to clean it properly later on before handing his customer a pack of tissues for his leg and shoe. The male laughs, holding out a hand to stop Woojin before he could stoop down and wipe the coffee off him. 

 

“Hey, don’t worry about it! There’s no harm done.” Woojin prayed to all the divine beings he knew that those shoes weren’t expensive. The man managed to convince Woojin to stand up and proceed with what they were doing before the accident. Trying not to let the guilt eat into him, Woojin makes up for him by --finally-- drawing out all the information about the furniture he’s accumulated over time in his job. His grandfather would be proud. 

 

The man was nice, asking him polite questions and showing a genuine interest in whatever Woojin’s showing him. Eventually they settled upon a 17th century Australian vanity made out of alderwood, and the customer happily approaches the cashier counter for payment.

 

But as he passes by the mirror next to the counter, Woojin’s eyes widen again at the reminder of his lack of a reflection. This! This was another man that was just like him! Never in his life has he seen another person lacking a reflection. 

 

Whatever questions Woojin had made himself suppress over the last fifteen years of his life resurfaces, swarming him, and he panics.  He  _ has  _ to find out more about this guy. 

 

“We can’t have it delivered today, though!” Woojin blurted out, only to meet the stunned eyes of the man in front of him. He finally realises what he just said, and he quickly spins an excuse out of his head. “It… Uh, it has been in our shop for quite a period of time already, and our protocol dictates that we have to give our products a final quality check before it’s sold. You’ll have to come back for it… Another day...”

 

It wasn’t entirely false. His grandfather often gives his ancient products a final thorough check-up before sending them to their forever home (thanks to a wooden chair with a hidden termite infestation that the owners found out about the hard way… Come to think of it, they were lucky they weren’t sued). Then again, Woojin and his grandfather also made sure that every of their products are of prime condition before the latter left for his vacation. 

 

Then again, Woojin is also desperate.

 

“Well, I guess that’s understandable,” the customer decides. “So, when can it be delivered?”

 

Woojin pauses, clearly having not thought the answers through before running his mouth. “I… uh… When do you need it by?”

 

The other male chuckles once again. For whatever strange reason, Woojin’s behavior seemed endearing to him. “It’s no rush, my grandma won’t be moving in until Wednesday. How about this: I have to be somewhere else soon, so should we meet up again sometime later to further discuss the delivery and payment details? Maybe get some coffee? Does that sound okay? I don’t believe I have your name.”

 

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Woojin can’t believe how this was developing. “And W-Woojin, I’m Kim Woojin...”

 

The male nods with a smile, turning towards the door. “Bang Chan. I’ll see you soon.”

 

* * *

“So you spilt some coffee on him, and he asked you out on a date,” Hyunjin dryly sums up Woojin’s recount. 

 

“Not a date,” Woojin hastily corrects him, not liking how that word makes his stomach flip. “We are simply meeting up for a purchase.”

 

“Sure, because you _ totally _ need to get a coffee together to close a purchase for a two-hundred-year-old table,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes knowingly, and Woojin narrows his eyes at his friend. “What do you know about the antique furniture business in the 21st century?”

 

“Enough to know that you messed up big time, Kim Woojin. The opportunity has practically gift-wrapped itself for you and you threw it away just like that!”

 

Woojin sits up, obviously offended. “What do you mean? I did as you asked, met someone new that isn’t on a retirement plan, and look, I’ll even be going  _ out of the shop _ like you wanted! Give me some credit will you?”

 

“I would, if you hadn’t missed out one little important detail.”

 

“And what might that be?”

 

“Did you get his number?” Hyunjin cocks his eyebrow at him, smirking as realisation gradually dawns on Woojin’s face. “How do you expect to contact him to arrange your so called ‘business deal’?”

 

The subsequent few moments are filled with silence before Woojin chokes out, slightly horrified at himself.

 

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot.”

 

“You’re an idiot,” Hyunjin agrees without skipping a beat, picking away at the hangnails on his fingers. “Now you’ve just have to hope that you hadn’t chased him away with your weird behaviour earlier. I won’t be surprised if he’s taken the chance to run away to another shop. He’s probably been to the Parks’ down the street already.”

 

“God I hate the Parks’. They never check their furniture for loose nails and splinters,” Woojin sighs. “He can do so much better than that.”

 

But Woojin’s phone vibrates against his desk, startling them both with the loud rattle. Woojin leans over the space between his bed and his desk (yes, his room is  _ that _ small) towards his phone and Hyunjin glances at it over his shoulder, curious.

 

> **23:56PM | Unknown Number:** Hey, this is Bang Chan from earlier. I’m sorry, it had slipped my mind to pass you my contact information, but thankfully your number was written on the namecard I’ve gotten off your desk. 
> 
> **23:56PM | Unknown Number:** Anyway, I was wondering if Sunday at two in the afternoon? At the cafe right across your shop? Let me know if you are available.

 

Both of them simultaneously look up from the screen and at each other, mirroring the other’s awestruck faces. “God has given you a second chance,” Hyunjin whispers. “I am so going to tell Jeongin about this tomorrow.”

 

Yang Jeongin is a delightful boy, a couple years Woojin's junior, but a choice he approved immensely for Hyunjin's soulmate. He had eyes that basically disappeared whenever he laughed, a voice that "twinkles like the stars in the sky," Hyunjin would say, and a smile that was impossible to say no to. When Woojin shows up to the café that Sunday to see the boy standing next to Hyunjin, Woojin wonders if he was going to regret letting Hyunjin tag along. 

 

"What? He wanted to come," Hyunjin says defensively, his head perched protectively over Jeongin’s own head. Jeongin giggles, giving Woojin a small wave. "I don't wanna miss your first date."

 

"It's not a... ugh, screw this," Woojin sighs defeatedly, knowing it would be impossible to beat them.  _ Is this what it's like to have kids?  _ "You guys stay out of sight, got it?"

 

They bob their heads eagerly and Woojin heads in first, scanning the vicinity for the head of dirty blonde hair.  _ There! _ Chan had a booth towards the back of the cafe. The male spots him too, happily waving him over to his seat. 

 

Woojin bows his head in greeting, sliding into the sofa opposite him. "Sorry, I hope you hadn't been waiting long..."

 

Chan shakes his head, sliding the menu over to him. "No worries, I just got here too. Here, I heard their macchiatos are good." Woojin scans the menu for a while before settling on a matcha macchiato, raising his hand to beckon the waiter over.

 

As his eyes search for an available worker, he spots a certain duo instead.

 

_ God, help me. _

 

Hyunjin and Jeongin have taken to a table diagonally to Woojin's booth, strategically placed out of Chan's line of sight, but right in full view of Woojin's.

 

The pair break into giggles once spotted, like a pair of wayward teenagers. Jeongin’s playful eyes crinkle as he mouths three words at Woojin's direction.

 

" _ We're not here _ !"

 

That was what Woojin would get if he was actually good at lip-reading. Instead he has to stew in frustrated confusion as he tries to decipher what "walnut ear" means.

 

" _ Tell him 'you have pretty eyes _ '!" Hyunjin chirps in with a cackle. 

 

" _ What _ ?!" Woojin knows innately that whatever's coming out of Hyunjin would probably not be helpful, but he chooses to give him the benefit of the doubt anyway.

 

Hyunjin leans across the table, his mouth stretching into comical shapes as he tries to get the message (or joke, Woojin can't tell) across.

 

" _ TELL _ !  _ HIM-- _ "

 

"Is something over there?" Chan wonders, craning his neck over towards whatever Woojin's squinting at. In a flash, Jeongin yanks Hyunjin back into his seat, slamming the menu across both their faces.

 

Woojin doesn't have the heart to tell them that their menu is upside down.

 

"You know those guys?" Chan wonders bemusedly, turning his attention back to Woojin, who's in desperate need of an Aspirin, or a hole to bury himself into.

 

"Nope, never seen them before in my life."

 

* * *

 

"So you want it delivered on Wednesday, and making payment by cheque on that day too, yes?" Woojin scribbles some things into his notebook. Thankfully the other couple have ceased to be a concern for now, falling quiet once their plate of apple pie arrives.

 

Chan leans over to double check the information Woojin has penned down, and Woojin momentarily forgets to breathe.

 

" _ Hyunjin hyung! Hyunjin hyung! _ " Woojin ignores Jeongin's excited yelps (and subsequent noisy clanging of cutleries on the plate) for now. He lifts the cup of macchiato to his lips, letting the cold liquid extinguish the heat creeping up his neck.

 

"Wow, you've nice handwriting," Chan offhandedly comments, and Woojin almost breaks the glass cup in his hands. "But, um... can I at least have the contact information of whoever's making the delivery? So that I can keep track of it and see how it's going?"

 

Woojin sets down his cup with a clear of his throat, reassuming his (somewhat) professional role. "You're looking at him," he tells Chan sheepishly. "We don't have a delivery guy."

 

"Really?" Chan's eyes widen. "Wow, that must be really hard on you, running the shop and doing all these extra tasks too."

 

"It's fine, actually," Woojin reassures. "To be very fair, we don't get a lot of business either. You're the first purchase in a couple weeks."

 

"Well but still, you should probably take a break after this Wednesday."

 

Woojin laughs, swayed by the concerned look in Chan's eyes. "Yeah, I just might."

 

"OH, SO  _ HIM _ YOU LISTEN TO. WHY YOU LITTLE INGRATE--"

 

Woojin winces at the offended scoff from Hyunjin and he looks up in time to see Jeongin practically tackling him back down onto his seat.

 

"SORRY!" The younger man calls out towards the other patrons. If Hyunjin’s incredulous outcry hadn’t attracted half the cafe’s attention by now, Jeongin’s dramatic yelling definitely would have. "He's acting up, hasn't had his meds! Come now, hyung." He all but drags him out towards the nearest exit, leaving a generous fifty dollar bill for a four dollar pie. 

 

Woojin groans, deciding to be the bigger man in this situation. Standing up, he replaces the 50 dollar note with the four out of his own pocket with a mind to return the money to Jeongin the next time he sees him.

 

_ If _ he sees him.

 

"So... you do know them?" Chan guesses when he returns to his seat, and Woojin jumps, almost forgetting that he was there.

 

"Yeah," he finally admits with a sigh. "Those are my idiot friends."

 

* * *

 

 

> **15:57PM | Grizz:** You're lucky he finds you guys amusing. Or I am never speaking to either of you again.
> 
>  
> 
> **16:01PM | The Superior Jin:** ♡
> 
>   
>  **16:07PM | The Superior Jin** **_[Message forwarded from Baby Innie]_ ** **:** ♡


	3. Chapter 3

_ I should really get the fuel pump fixed…  _ Woojin reminds himself with a chagrined wince as he turns into the street indicated on the address. It is a quiet neighbourhood near the outskirts of Seoul,  _ quiet  _ being the keyword in this observation as the engine to his grandfather’s possibly twenty-year-old truck chokes and rumbles practically fill the air, drawing the attention of several children in the park and a group of gossiping ladies down the street.

 

Nonetheless, Woojin grits his teeth and sticks his head out of the window, scanning the row of houses for the the right one. 21, 23… there 25! Woojin slows to a park outside of the gate, switching off the engine, and the truck violently shudders in protest, letting out spontaneous bursts of gas. A teenage boy walking his dog casts him a startled glance, and Woojin tries his best to put on a ‘I-totally-got-this-under-control’ face as he pulls the key out of the ignition.

 

The truck gives one last lurch before submitting under the will of its owner. Woojin prays fervently that it was not its last voyage. He exits the old vehicle and inspects the house before him. While Woojin lives in an ordinary apartment within the city district, Chan’s house is a simple, single-storeyed terrace, painted in pure white and reds. But before Woojin can get a better look, the front door swings open and the familiar blonde male steps out of the house, eyes twinkling as he recognises the man at his driveway.

 

“Woojin!” Chan calls in greeting, stepping off his porch to meet him. Woojin isn’t sure if it’s just the effect of the male’s brightly coloured hair reflecting in the sunlight, but  _ damn _ , Chan is practically glowing. 

 

“I saw you pull up from the window,” Chan begins, coming face to face with him. “Or, rather…” his eyebrows furrow in concern as he glances over Woojin’s shoulder at the steaming hunk of metal behind him, “I  _ heard _ you pull up. Is that… truck okay?”

 

That comment makes Woojin laugh a little, “Yeah, she belongs to my grandfather. Today’s one of her worse days, she’s not usually this stubborn.” He heads towards the back, lowering the ramp so that he has access to the storage compartment. The vanity table that Chan had ordered sits in the back of the compartment, strapped down and smothered in bubble wrap (Woojin would have been more generous with the bubble wrap if it weren’t for Hyunjin habitually popping a few dozen of them every time he visits and leaving him with sheets of useless plastic).

 

Usually with delivery trips, Woojin’s grandfather would enlist his help so that there would be two people on the job. But Woojin is alone now, he frets as he stares the vanity table down once he releases the rope holding the furniture in place. At least it isn’t a wardrobe. Woojin shudders as he remembered that one delivery that left him going through almost six packets of pain relief patches.

 

“Hey, uhh… do you need help in there?” Woojin cranes his neck behind him to see Chan’s head peering from outside the truck. 

 

“No, I’m good! You might wanna back away for a bit though.”

 

_ Damn, I should have worn looser pants for this job _ , Woojin derides himself internally, feeling the fabric of his jeans strain against his legs as he lifts the heavy piece of furniture onto the cart successfully. Fortunately, he doesn’t tear a hole in his clothings with that feat and he wheels the cart out of the storage compartment with a triumphant grin. “Alright, let’s move this beauty into her new home,” he says, dusting his hands. But Chan doesn’t respond, and Woojin turns to him, confused. 

 

The other male is staring right at him, slightly slack-jawed, and Woojin wonders if he had done something wrong or looked a little funny. He has no reflection, after all. How was he to know for sure how he looked like before going out every day? Maybe it is his clothes? Well, he is wearing a sleeveless top today, and Jeongin has always made it a point to bring up Woojin’s broader-than-average shoulders. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he hadn’t grown self-conscious about them.

 

_ Wait, he’s just a customer, why should I care so much? _ Woojin hopes he feels as certain as his thoughts are. 

 

But Chan quickly snaps out of whatever trance he was in, and sputters out a, “Oh yeah, sure, come on in!” before starting towards his house. Woojin promptly follows behind, wheeling the pushcart with one hand atop of the vanity table to make sure it doesn’t topple mid-journey. Chan helps him lift the cart up the couple of steps on their porch and into the house.

 

Chan’s house had basic but elegant interior decorations, mostly black and whites. Woojin appreciates having to look at modern furniture after being stuck in the shop for so long. “My grandmother’s room is right at the end of the corridor,” Chan gestures towards a small hallway, and Woojin nods, directing the pushcart towards there.

 

The next few minutes are quiet as Woojin works, Chan giving him the extra muscle whenever he needed it and occasionally asking some polite questions about his job. It eventually drifts towards small talk. Woojin learns that Chan grew up in Australia with his parents and only recently moved back to Korea, and Woojin tells Chan that he used to be a rather formidable kendo player in his younger days before giving it up as he got busier. For some reason, they ended up in a rather heated discussion about chicken (why just have plain old fried chicken when there’s an option to order them half-and-half?). Woojin starts to fix the mirror onto the vanity, he hears the front door swing open.

 

“Chan, are you home?” comes a rather soft, lilting woman’s voice.

 

“Oh shoot, my grandmother’s home, give me a moment,” Chan stands up and darts out of the room. Woojin immediately rises as well, cleaning off his hands to make sure he’s not too shabby-looking when meeting the elder. The mirror stares back at him mockingly, and Woojin fumes knowing that it’s useless to him. 

 

Moments later Chan reappears in the room with a much shorter old lady. “Yeah and uh, this is the man that delivered the vanity to our house. We’re still getting it set up.”

 

Woojin approaches her and folds his back in half. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am, but I’ll get it done shortly.” The old lady has to tilt her head upwards to meet Woojin’s eyes and almost at once, Woojin sees the resemblance between her and Chan in their twinkling crescent shaped eyes.

 

“Oh, there is no hurry, sweetie. Take all the time you need.” Chan’s grandmother clasps Woojin’s much bigger hand in between hers. “Your hand… It’s so rough,” she fusses, and Woojin stares blankly back at her, taken aback by the amount of warmth in her voice. “You’ve been working hard, haven’t you? Chan, why don’t you fetch this nice young man a glass of the herbal tea I’ve made in the fridge?”

 

“Oh, that won’t be nec--”

 

“On it, Nana. I’ll write you that cheque while I’m at it, okay Woojin?” Chan excuses himself out of the room again before Woojin could politely turn them down, leaving him alone with his grandmother. The old lady puts down her handbag and lets out a weary sigh as she sits atop of her bed. Woojin decides that it’s best to continue with his work so that she could have the room to herself as soon as possible. 

 

As Woojin fixes the first screw in place, he sees the elder making a phone call from the corner of his eye, “Hello? Yes, I’ve made it back home safely from the hospital. Your oldest son is back home too. They’re delivering the mirror to my room today, remember?”

 

He tries to let the old lady’s voice fade in the background as he works, knowing that he has no rights to be eavesdropping on a phone call. But with the room being rather tiny, it’s hard not to overhear. 

 

“Yongbok-ie? He’s fine, looks a lot better than he did after the surgery last week. When are you coming to visit? He’s been asking for you every day.” The old lady clicks her tongue in disapproval as she listens to the receiver. “Ey, you and your husband only ever focus on your job. I know you’re busy earning money to upkeep the family but does it hurt to take some time off to see your youngest son?”

 

Woojin internally winces at the sudden exposition dump before him, knowing that he’s unintentionally been made aware of rather private information. From what it sounds, it seems like Chan has a younger brother in the hospital?  _ Well, you wanted to get to know Chan a little better, didn’t you? Now you’re getting the juicy bits. _ As he stands up to fix the last and topmost screw, he falters, noticing an old photo frame placed atop of the shelf to his right. 

 

“At least show some pity to Chan. He’s only twenty-one but he’s been working day in and out to take care of his brother and grandmother. Hardly even has time for himself. It’ll make his day if you drop by, you know?”

 

Woojin loses the battle to curiosity and sneaks a peek at the photo. It’s undoubtedly old, the corners already losing color due to sun bleaching, but Woojin identifies a family of five. There is a happy, young couple in the middle of the shot, the woman’s arm entwined lovingly around her husband’s. There’s Chan’s grandmother, slightly younger-looking and sitting on a stool in front of the couple. And sitting in front of the three, Woojin can’t help the upwards tug of his lips as he recognises the young boy immediately.

 

Chan looked exactly the same as he does now, smiley eyes with a glint of playfulness in them, a brilliant gummy grin (that was missing a front tooth) and a head of dishevelled hair. He has his arms thrown around a smaller boy, and Woojin assumes that is the younger brother in question. Yet… this child looked nothing like the rest of the family. He had a thin, lanky frame, dewy round eyes, and a small face that’s adorned with freckles. Woojin blinks. This child must have had genes that skipped the last couple generations.

 

Woojin quickly tears his eyes away from the photo when he hears Chan come in again.

 

“Here’s the herbal tea my grandmother’s made,” he tells Woojin, setting the cup on top of the vanity table. “It’s her own recipe, her… special _ -tea _ , if you will.  _ Oh god, that’s such a bad pun _ .” The last sentence was hissed as an afterthought but it makes Woojin laugh anyway. He finishes up with the last screw and picks up the cup, taking big, long gulps from it thirstily. It reminded Woojin of the tonic drinks his mother used to make when he was a child, and the short nostalgia trip warms him a little. 

 

“Chan,” his grandmother calls him over once she’s put the phone down. “I just called your mother, she says that she and your father wouldn’t be back in Seoul until next week. You think you can drop by to visit Yongbok anytime soon? He’s feeling rather lonely today. I don’t think I’m providing the kind of companionship he needs at this age.”

 

Woojin tactfully averts his eyes away from the pair, packing up his tools once he finishes up the beverage.  

 

He hears Chan sigh pensively behind him. “I guess I can take the night shift at the gas station and visit him in the mornings. Is he doing okay? I miss not having him around here.”

 

“The doctors say he’s fine and recovering, but they want to keep him around for a few more days to make sure that there aren’t any signs of infection after the operation.”

 

Woojin’s grip on his screwdriver slips, sending it crashing onto the hardwood floor. He panics, bending over to pick it up and pretend that nothing has happened and that he wasn’t distracted from listening to whatever they had been discussing. Chan looks up at Woojin, remembering that there is a stranger in his grandmother’s room.

 

“Oh, right! Um, here’s the cheque.” He fishes out a small slip of paper from his pocket and hands it over to Woojin. “Thank you so much for your help today, Woojin. I’ll walk you out of the door.”

 

And there it is. Woojin dreads knowing that this is quite possibly, most definitely, the last time he’ll see Chan, much less speak to him face to face. He manages a small nod, bowing to the old lady who chirps in a, “come visit again soon!” as though she hadn’t realised that Woojin is nothing but a delivery man from an antique shop. 

 

As he and Chan walk back out towards the front door, Woojin concedes that he did fulfill at least a little of his agenda. From the moment Chan had walked into his shop, he’s been filled with the dying urge to get to know him better, and he should at least be satisfied that he has a teeny bit of that knowledge now (granted, he had cheated a little, but it isn’t as if his social anxiety would allow him to freely fraternize with Chan anytime soon. He’s only known him for a grand total of three days, for crying out loud).

 

He starts up the truck after exchanging a final handshake of goodbye, and fortunately the rusty hunk of metal agrees to work properly this time, promptly revving up and cutting off their farewell.

 

If Chan had waved at him through the mirror, Woojin couldn’t see it. 

 

* * *

 

 

He tries not to think about Chan over the next three days as he goes about his usual business. Of course, he had turned to Hyunjin as an outlet, telling him everything that had transpired that day but leaving out the more sensitive information. Hyunjin writes Woojin off as a hopeless case, promising his best friend that he would one day teach him everything he knows. Woojin was hesitant, taking into account that fiasco that happened last week in the cafe, but one look at Jeongin’s bright, braces-filled grin through Hyunjin’s reflection makes him think twice and begrudgingly agree. Clearly he’s doing  _ something _ right.

 

(“I can’t believe you finally got to spend time with someone your age, and you still manage to get more out of an elderly lady.”

 

“God, it sounds all gross and wrong when you say it like that.”)

 

Woojin eventually decides to take Chan’s advice and treat himself a little. He leaves Hyunjin in charge of the shop for a little bit, taking out the truck to get lunch for the both of them. Chicken, Woojin declares firmly, knowing that it’s the only food that can suffice as emotional therapy, and Hyunjin relents with an overdramatic purse of his lips.

 

As he drives into the street where his favourite fried chicken branch is located, Woojin can’t help but notice that Chan’s house is just a left turn away. He lets out a low sigh, telling himself to get over it, and that he’s only feeling this disappointed because he’s never met anyone else like him.  _ So what? I’ve lived twenty long years without questioning my lack of a reflection. I can get by another few decades.  _

 

The parking lot that Woojin has been eyeing finally frees up, and shaking his head to get rid of his thoughts, he releases his foot off the brake pedal.

 

A flash of white cuts through the dashboard and Woojin slams the down on the breaks again, feeling his whole body lurch forward, only to snap back thanks to the seatbelt. There’s a light thud and Woojin’s heart jumps into his throat at the thought of hitting someone.

 

But the white figure collects himself with one hand braced against the hood of Woojin’s truck, and through the glass, Woojin can see how heavily his chest is heaving from the ordeal, and he strains his eyes, trying to deduce if he’s hurt himself anywhere.

 

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” he spits, when he finally manages to get a good look at the figure. “Chan?!”

 

* * *

 

 

> **12:42PM | Grizz:** Sorry Hyunjin, you have to get your own lunch. I literally ran into an emergency. I’ll tell you about it later.
> 
>   
>  **12:43PM | The Superior Jin:** :(


	4. Chapter 4

“Chan!” Woojin yelps, immediately undoing his seatbelt, throwing his truck door open and nearly tumbling out of the vehicle in his haste. “Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there! Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need a doctor?”

 

He seizes the man by the shoulders in order to support him, and is shocked to find how violently Chan is breathing under him. Woojin crouches down, trying to look at the male in the face. The man looked dazed, his eyes opened wide and he is sweating bullets.

 

“Chan… Are you okay?” Woojin frets, shaking him for good measure, and fortunately that seems to restore a bit of consciousness in Chan. He shifts his eyes onto Woojin, finally registering his presence and recognizing him.

 

“Hos... Hospital,” he manages to breathe out in between his pants, dropping his gaze back onto the asphalt. “I have... to go to the hospital… My brother…” The last two words were all Woojin needed to piece the puzzle in his head, understanding the severity of the situation, and he looks at the man in front of him firmly. “I’ll take you there, Chan. Let’s get you in the truck first.”

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to be hurt anywhere. Chan manages to find strength in his legs and with Woojin’s help is able to get himself onto the passenger’s seat of the truck. 

 

“Which hospital is he in?” he asks Chan as he straps himself back into the driver’s seat. The man next to him replies, “Seoul University,” with difficulty. Woojin wastes no time in taking off, throwing his phone into the glove compartment after obtaining the address (and dropping Hyunjin a text). 

 

Chan’s uneven breathing is audible even over the noisy engines of the truck. As Woojin pulls up at a red light, he spares his companion a glance, making sure that he’s okay and that he isn’t about to have an aneurysm due to stress or anything. Chan is pale, his skin covered with a sheen of sweat. His pupils are constricted and his lips are quivering as though he’s holding back the urge to break down.

 

Woojin knows that look, he realises. It’s the same look Woojin would see on his mother’s face when he was a child, when she wakes up from her nightmares from losing her husband. For a moment, Woojin fears the worst for Chan.

 

Before he can even be aware of what he is doing, Woojin’s hand instinctively finds its perch atop of Chan’s slightly smaller, clammier ones.

 

“Hey,” he speaks gently, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

Chan folds his bottom lip in between his teeth in response, exhaling out heavily through his nose. “He was supposed to be fine. He got a donor… got surgery. He’s supposed to recover and come home with us. He’s supposed to be  _ okay _ . But there was infection and--” 

 

He pauses, catching his breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back against the seat. The hand under Woojin’s clenches into a fist, and at once Woojin tightens his grip against Chan’s fingers. Only then does the man seem to notice the skin contact, and his eyes flutter open, looking at Woojin with bloodshot scleras. For some reason, it prickles at Woojin’s heart to see his normally bright, sunny eyes this tired and miserable.

 

The light turns green again, and Woojin pulls his hand back up to the steering wheel.

 

“Tell me about him,” he finally says after a little while of driving. “Tell me about your brother.” 

 

When Woojin was a child, he would curl himself up in his mother’s lap whenever she’s having one of those episodes. He found out the best way to pull his mother through them. He would ask for his mother to open up, to share stories about his deceased father, and she would tell him about their younger days, their happiest days.

 

He feels Chan cast him a puzzled glance, clearly not expecting the sudden request. But when Woojin doesn’t take his words back, Chan draws in a shaky breath.

 

“His… His name is Yongbok,” he begins. “He’s three years younger than me, we adopted him into our family when we were living in Australia.”

 

Woojin tries his best to hide his surprise. Well… that kind of explains the lack of resemblance, he recalls the photo on Chan’s grandmother’s shelf. 

 

“I was about eight, and my parents have always wanted to adopt a younger child. When we visited an orphanage for children with special needs and met Yongbok, something in us just clicked, and we knew that we wanted him to be a part of our family.” Chan’s hands tug at the ends of his white hoodie as he slowly falls into the trance of memories, and Woojin makes sure to let out an understanding hum to let him know that he was listening to his every word.

 

“He was a weak child, valvular heart disease. He could never run or jump like other kids without losing his breath or even fainting. But we loved him, and he loved us all the same. It got especially bad when he entered high school, however…”

 

And on Chan goes, narrating out pretty much his younger brother’s life. How they’ve spent their time playing together, how he has a passion for dance and sports despite his disability, how Chan would sneak him morsels of food he wasn’t allowed to eat on his worse days to cheer him up. Woojin listens as Chan also explains, however, how Yongbok has been through so much stress in the form of workload and bullies (Woojin almost curses at that part) that his body could no longer handle it and he had to have surgery on his heart before it collapses on him. The family eventually decided to move back to Korea for surgery and to give Yongbok a fresh start in life in a healthier body.

 

Chan concludes this story there, and Woojin has to sit in silence for a moment to take everything in. He did manage to achieve what he had intended; to take Chan’s mind off his panic over his younger brother in the hospital. And on the inside, Woojin’s heart is singing, knowing that the man seated next to him in the truck is a loving, dedicated family man that would do anything for the people he cares about. 

 

He had already guessed it from Chan’s mannerisms, his politeness, the amount of warmth when he talks to his grandmother… He is definitely a good man, a far cry from the ones Woojin had met in his life (sans Hyunjin and Jeongin, of course): rambunctious, entitled, downright bastards. Why do the bad ones still have soulmates?

 

And why is Chan’s reflection empty?

 

Has he even dated before? A good-looking and kind man like Chan must have some people after him. Maybe he’s happily dating now, Chan never had a reason to bring up his love life in their short conversations before, after all. It continues to niggle at Woojin’s mind for the rest of the drive. But he never got his answer. He stops his truck at the drop-off point at the hospital, and Chan hastily unbuckles his seatbelt, the urge to see his brother again kicking in and overwhelming him.

 

“Thank you so much, Woojin. Oh my god, I really do owe you one,” Chan says out in one breath, sounding almost like he is rapping. Woojin watches as he scrambles to grab his wallet and push the door open. Then he bolts straight towards the reception, casting Woojin one last glance and dipping his head in thanks when he makes eye contact.

 

Woojin sighs, releasing the clutch on his truck and proceeds to drive off. Maybe he still has enough time to join Hyunjin for lunch after all? He’ll probably have to treat his best friend to a drink as a form of apology for ditching him this abruptly. Well, there is a kiosk of Hyunjin’s favourite bubble tea located just down the street. He probably should--

 

His phone vibrates next to him. Woojin jumps slightly in his seat before remembering very clearly that his phone is tossed into the glove compartment and he _should not_ be able to hear or feel any vibrations whatsoever. That can only mean one thing, and his gut feeling tempts him to sneak a quick glance to his side.

 

Yep, and there it is. Chan’s phone lays front first on the passenger’s seat, blinking with a notification from a phone game (he plays Mobile Legends too?). Woojin actually groans out loud, wanting nothing more than to slump against his seat in despair before promptly reminding himself that he’s still driving.  _ God, what do I do now? _

 

Every time, Woojin accepts that he’s parting ways with Chan for good, he seems to find his way back. 

 

Fortunately, there’s a U-turn right ahead and he takes it back to the hospital. Parking his truck, he runs back to the lobby, but he arrives to see the area crowded with people and obviously, no Chan in sight, and he mentally kicks himself. 

 

With Chan’s phone inaccessible with a passcode, Woojin has no means on contacting him or any of his family members. Despair weighs heavily on his shoulders and he defeatedly finds an empty bench near the elevators to sit on. Pulling out his own phone, he sends an SOS message to Hyunjin, filling him on the details on whatever’s happened.

 

> **15:28PM | Grizz:**  So long story short, I have his phone with me right now, what do I do?

 

Hyunjin promptly types out a reply, but the dots stop appearing under Hyunjin’s name, as though he’s stopped. A few heartbeats later, Woojin finally receives a reply.

 

> **15:29PM | The Superior Jin:** You should wait for him.

 

> **15:29PM | Grizz:** Should I, really?

 

No response for the next minute, though Hyunjin’s  _ online _ status seems to be impishly snickering at him. Eventually, Woojin gives in.

 

> **15:29PM | Grizz:** … Close up shop early, you know where I keep the keys

 

Hyunjin simply sends him a smirking emoji in response, and rolling his eyes, Woojin ends the conversation there. Well, there isn’t really anything else he can do but wait for Chan to contact him through his own phone, and when he does, Woojin’ll be right here waiting for him. 

 

(And if, god forbid, something happens to Yongbok, Woojin knows that someone needs to be there for Chan.)

 

So Woojin waits.

 

He waits, keeping his eyes transfixed on the glass window in front of him, watching the visitors enter and exit the elevator behind him through the reflection. People-watching has always been a form of stress and boredom relief for him, despite the occasional times he witnesses something unpleasant he wish he didn’t have to look into a reflection to see. 

 

Still, it’s a pretty reliable way to pass the time.

 

There’s an elderly couple that exits the first elevator, the old man in a wheelchair with his wife pushing him out towards the garden. Through the glass, Woojin sees the old man’s wife in the wheelchair instead with her husband pushing her, and a part of him wonders if it was the old man’s secret desire to be the one taking care of his elderly spouse instead of the other way around.

 

The next batch of elevator commuters is a very pregnant lady with who Woojin assumes to be her mother. He looks at their reflection, pursing his lips slightly in disapproval when he sees both husbands standing in their place, both dressed in business attires, engrossed in work. 

 

Then he sees two children, barely older than 10, tumbling out of the last elevator, donned in hospital gowns with a watchful nurse following close by. At first, Woojin couldn’t fathom any visible difference in their reflections, but upon straining his eyes just a tad bit more, he can’t help but smile when he realises that the two young girls reflected each other. Must be nice, Woojin thinks serenely, to already be together with your soulmate this early in life.

 

Must be nice...

 

Woojin ends up waiting until he sees the sun start its dip between the tall buildings outside the window, casting an orange glow in the lobby he’s seated in. Woojin has given up on his hobby (and lost all his lives on his phone games, and decimated a venti latte at Starbucks), and has reduced himself to counting the number of stains on the carpet floor. 

 

He feels his eyes start to close, and exasperated, he tilts his head backwards to rest on the wall behind him.  _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all?_  But Chan’s phone suddenly vibrates and he is jerked out of his sleepy trance, his legs flailing comically and startling an intern passing by.

 

**Caller: Felix**

 

His heart sinks, that’s a name foreign to him, and ponders if he should risk answering Chan’s phone and explaining to whoever’s on the line that he’s very much  _ not Chan _ . He steels himself and slides the answer button, putting the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“... Is this Woojin?”

 

“Chan!” Woojin sits up straight now, immediately recognising his voice. His mouth falls open and everything spills out. “Your phone’s with me now, you left it in my truck when you alighted so I kept it here with me and I drove back to the hospital to find you but you were nowhere to be found so I’m here waiting for you at the lobby next to the elevators so if you’re still here--”

 

“Wait, what? You’re  _ still here _ ?” Chan’s voice comes out as a panicked squawk, and a series of rattles and fumbling can be heard in the background. “Oh my god…  _ Shit _ ,” something that sounds like a chair topples over, “I’m on the way down! Sit tight, Woojin.”

 

Relief floods over the boy once the phone call ends, and Woojin slumps back in his seat. The elevator opens, and through the reflection Woojin sees no one in it, but the thunderous footsteps heading his way gives Woojin a hunch on who it is.

 

“Woojin!” Chan skids to a stop in front of him, panting, and at the sound of his name, Woojin stands up. The man in front of him is a little disheveled, his upper body braced on his knees with his arms as he catches his breath.

 

“Did you run all the way down here?” Woojin dumbly mumbles, getting a “Pretty much,” from Chan with a wheeze. “I… I can’t believe you’ve waited here for three hours.”

 

“It’s been that long?” Woojin hadn’t realised it. He pulls out Chan’s phone from out of his pocket and sticks it out towards him. Chan takes it, still looking at Woojin with somewhat stunned (maybe awestruck? Woojin can’t exactly tell) eyes. “I didn’t think you’d still be here, I thought you would’ve went back home and I could contact you and pick my phone up another day.”

 

“I… didn’t want to do that,” Woojin confesses. “I thought that you’d want it back as soon as possible.”

 

“ _ Shit _ , I didn’t even realise my phone was missing until a few minutes ago,” Chan mutters in a tone that was rather self-berating. “I am so sorry.” And Woojin shrugs, smiling to assure him that he didn’t mind.

 

“But still,” Chan gives him a soft smack on the arms. “You could have asked one of the nurses or receptionists to bring it up to my brother’s ward. You knew his name, after all. It could have saved you time and I wouldn’t be feeling this guilty, dummy.” 

 

His words are a little harsh but it was said with such a soft and warm tone and with such a sheepish but adorable grin that Woojin finds himself combusting internally (Then again, Chan could be reading him instructions on how to screw in a lightbulb and Woojin would still be enamoured).  Truth to be told, in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t thought of that much simpler solution, and he feels a little dumb.

 

But with Chan right in front of him again, smiling, he regrets nothing.

 

* * *

 

  
  


> **18:03PM | Grizz:** You can eat your words about me being a hopeless case now, Hwang Hyunjin, because guess who just got asked out for a dinner
> 
>  
> 
> **18:04PM | The Superior Jin:** ah
> 
> **18:04PM | The Superior Jin:** Well, you have me to thank either way. I told you to stay at the hospital to wait for him instead of passing it to the reception like a normal person
> 
>  
> 
> **18:05PM | Grizz:** ……
> 
>  
> 
> **18:05PM | The Superior Jin:** You have a lot more to learn, young grasshopper. 
> 
> **18:05PM | The Superior Jin:** Where is he taking you anyway? It better be somewhere good since you ditched me for lunch
> 
>  
> 
> **18:05PM | Grizz:** We’re at hospital cafeteria.
> 
>  
> 
> **18:05PM | The Superior Jin:** … Holy crap… You guys need help
> 
>  
> 
> **18:06PM | Grizz:** And you ditch me for Jeongin ALL THE TIME >:(
> 
>  
> 
> **18:06PM | The Superior Jin:** I love you ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you guys can tell, but I take immense pleasure in writing Hyunjin into the story to torture Woojin. 
> 
> Be ready to meet some new characters in the next chapter! I think you can guess who's coming in ;) Thank you showing so much love for this story!
> 
> -jae


	5. Chapter 5

“How is your brother?” Woojin asks as Chan sets his tray of food in front of him. Given the way Chan’s interacted with him just 10 minutes ago, he assumes that it is a safe question to ask.

 

Chan hums, snapping his chopsticks apart. “He collapsed during his physical therapy, and the doctor realised that there’s been an infection and wheeled him away into an emergency operation. His condition has stabilized, fortunately. He’s only just regained consciousness, but the doctor did say that he will be fine.”

 

“That’s good,” Woojin sighs, relieved. Flashing him a grin, Chan proceeds to inhale the food in front of him, shovelling a large amount of rice into his mouth along with a chopstick-full of beef. Woojin gawks at him, his spoon hovering mid-scoop over his own bowl of stew. 

 

And he thought he was a big eater. Chan looks like he hasn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks.

 

“This is why I love hospital food,” Chan tells him, his cheeks stuffed. “Everything’s really cheap, and it’s organic. Pity they ran out of the pork ribs. Those are to die for.” 

 

“You sound like you come here often,” Woojin comments, feeding himself a spoonful. 

 

Chan shrugs, swallowing his mouth of food. “Eh, probably a dozen times at most. Felix’s been in and out of the hospital for his check-ups and treatments ever since we came to Korea last year, so this is a quick and convenient place to settle our stomachs while taking care of him.”

 

There is that name again: Felix. The name of the contact Woojin read on Chan’s phone when he called earlier. “I’m sorry. Is Felix… Yongbok?”

 

Chan lets out an exclamation when he realises what he just said, and quickly nods, correcting himself. “Sorry, force of habit. Felix is the name given to him when he was in the orphanage in Australia. Yongbok is his birth name and what the older folks in my family call him. He prefers to be called Felix, though, and I guess that’s why I got used to calling him that.”

 

Woojin ‘ah’s in understanding, and the other male resumes eating after taking a hearty swig of barley tea. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” he asks after swallowing a cube of pickled radish, causing Woojin to look up at him questioningly.

 

“We only met because I bought a table from your shop, and strangely enough, here you are, seated in front of me and having a meal like we’ve known each other for months,” Chan explains. “I’m glad I bumped into you today.”

 

Woojin chuckles sheepishly, “I guess I do have to apologize for almost running you over earlier.” But his companion shakes his head. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I wasn’t even thinking straight, dashing onto the road like that. Huh, come to think of it, maybe that would have also earned me a free trip to the hospital.”

 

Chan snorts at his own joke (can he even call it that?), and Woojin manages an awkward smile at best. “I thought dropping off the table at your house last Wednesday would be the last time I’d see you too,” he confesses before he realises what was coming out of his mouth. “You seem to appear in my life when I least expect you to.”

 

“Is that a good thing?” Chan wonders playfully, and Woojin grins without a verbal response, feeling his ears burn up as he drops his gaze back onto his food. 

 

“I’m glad you showed up, though. I guess, it’s nice to finally meet someone new around my age,” Chan continues on. “I think you just might be the first friend I’ve made ever since I came to Korea. I mean, I do have colleagues at the gas station I work part-time at, but they are kinda… old and stuff.”

 

Well, that sounds oddly familiar. Woojin’s ears pricked up and he feels his eyebrows raise.

 

“Our family’s been pretty busy taking care of Felix. Our parents spend most of the week in Bucheon for their work, our grandmother sold her home in the countryside in order to support Felix’s medical bills and has been living with us since. So, I’ve sorta slipped into the role of the head of the household…” Chan rubs away at the back of his neck.

 

“Me too!” Woojin abruptly blurts out before he can stop himself, causing Chan to look back up at him. “Ever since my brother got married and moved five years ago, it’s just been me taking care of my mother and grandfather. I mean, my brother does send money back every month, but it’s not the same. I don’t really have friends outside of my high school friends -- Hyunjin and Jeongin -- you know, the ones you saw at the cafe? So in that sense, you’re the first friend I made in the last three years.”

 

_ Friend _ ? Can he call Chan that? It’s only their fourth meeting, after all, Woojin belatedly wonders. 

 

Chan nods his head earnestly in agreement, his blonde hair bobbing up and down as he does so, giving Woojin all the assurance he needs. “Guess we have a lot more in common than we thought, huh?”

 

Chan gives him a pleased beam at that realisation, and unknowingly, Woojin reflects it.

 

That night, Woojin finds himself giggling like an idiot to himself, kicking his blankets as he recounts that evening. He had dropped Chan back at his home and they parted ways with promise to meet up again soon when Yongbok is feeling better, and Woojin can only pray that it comes soon.

 

He even gets a pound hug from Chan (a first time for Woojin, who almost yelped in surprise when Chan pulls him into it after their handshake).

 

He changes Chan’s contact name in his phone from  _ Bang Chan (Customer) _ to simply  _ Chan _ , and he doesn’t like to admit that this simple change makes him feel more excited than he would have liked it to be. It isn’t much, he tells himself, but it’s something. As his grandfather always said: it’s the baby steps that count. 

 

He’s finally properly getting to know Chan, and with their promise to see each other again, Woojin’s in no hurry. He has plenty of time now, and he’ll take his time to get closer to him. 

 

* * *

 

  
  


Of course, Hyunjin just can’t let him have that.

 

> **08:43AM | The Superior Jin:** On behalf of your love life, Jeongin and I have gone through lengths to bridge the gap between you two lost souls. It’s for your own good, Kim Woojin. Thank us later.

 

This cryptic message was received by Woojin just a week after his last meeting with Chan. Munching on his cereal, he frowns as he reads and rereads the text, half of him wondering if he should be entertaining Hyunjin’s shenanigans this early in the morning.

 

Another message.

 

> **08:44AM | The Superior Jin:** LOL jk please don’t kill us, we love you. Minho sends you his luck, too.

 

Okay, definitely a cause for concern. He isn’t too familiar with Lee Minho, one of the boys in Jeongin’s circle of friends, just that he runs a small florist with his family where Woojin would buy his annual Mothers’ Day bouquets from (‘Yours TruLEE’, he remembers it being called, and he thought ‘Kim’s Antiques’ was tacky enough).

 

If he’s being roped into whatever plan the duo concocted, Woojin knows that they wouldn’t be a good combination. He slams in a series of question marks in response, but when Hyunjin doesn’t reply immediately, he decides to be more crude.

 

> **08:45AM | Grizz:** ???????
> 
> **08:50AM | Grizz:** HWANG HYUNJIN WHAT THE EFF DID YOU DO?!

 

> **08:50AM | The Superior Jin:** Geez, you can’t even curse properly. You’ll find out. Jeongin and I are fleeing the country as we speak.

 

Woojin gives up on him entirely and leaves his fate to the heavens.

 

\---

 

“I’m going to  _ kill _ Hwang Hyunjin,” Woojin declares through gritted teeth. His grandfather, currently polishing a drawer a few feet away from him, looks up at Woojin questioningly with a raised eyebrow for a while before returning back to his job. Clearly, he’s used to hearing this declaration from his grandson (from that one time Hyunjin stole his last chicken leg from the box a few months back, and that other time in their sophomore year when Hyunjin dropped his toothbrush into the toilet when he was staying over and left Woojin to discover the sorry sight of it floating in toilet water).

 

Come to think of it, it’s amazing that their friendship lasted this long. No one,  _ no one  _ aside from Hyunjin, has ever taken Woojin’s fried chicken leg and lived to tell the tale.

 

Back to the point.

 

Woojin buries his fingers into the roots of his hair, close to ripping them out of his scalp as he stares his phone down in utter disbelief. Maybe he’s mistaken; he’s heard it wrong, right? Shaking his head, he reaches out a trembling finger and hit the voicemail button again.

 

Chan’s husky voice plays back to him through his earpieces after the beep. “Hey… uh, Woojin? God, I don’t even know if people still use voicemails nowadays but I’ll give it a shot. I was going to contact you tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you that your fruit basket for Felix arrived safe and sound, and thank you for it, it really means a lot to us. He’s doing a lot better now, and he’s grateful too…” A pause. “... Maybe you can come around the hospital some time? To visit, so that he can thank you in person? Perhaps tomorrow? Let me know what you think, yeah? Catch you later, Woojin.” 

 

By the time the ending beep goes off, Woojin’s practically buried in his oversized purple hoodie. A fruit basket?! Was that the best plan Hyunjin and Jeongin came up with? Did they really just send a damn fruit basket over to Chan’s brother’s (whom he had never even  _ met _ , mind you) ward without telling him?

 

He rapid-fires a series of texts to his best friend, demanding to know if  _ this  _ was their shameless attempt to get the two of them together again, to which he receives five different memes of people dabbing, which basically translates to a “yes, now deal with it” in Hyunjin’s language. 

 

It could have gone horribly wrong, he frets to Hyunjin. Chan could have thought that he was being a creepy stalker for sending his brother a gift after only knowing him for a few days, and he could have thrown the fruit basket away and cut off all contact with him and moved back to Australia to get away from him once Yongbok’s discharged.

 

But he  _ didn’t _ , Hyunjin points out, and Woojin leaves him on read with a petty sigh.

 

Woojin’s grateful for one little silver lining however: that he had been too busy in the shop to answer Chan’s call in the first place because he knows that him, in all his wonderful… socially awkward glory, would simply react with utter confusion when Chan tells him about the fruit basket he had never sent. Boy, wouldn’t that be attractive.

 

After regaining some semblance of sanity whilst hidden underneath his hoodie, Woojin eventually decides to man up and call Chan back and explain the entire situation to him. That the fruit basket wasn’t sent by him and instead just a silly prank his friends pulled. Sure, he would look like an asshole in front of Chan, but at least he is being honest.

 

“Hello?” Chan asks after a few rings.

 

“I’m glad you got my fruit basket!” Woojin blurts out, immediately kicking himself afterwards.  _ Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! _

 

“Oh right, yeah! It’s really pretty. My grandmother loves it a lot, keeps asking about bringing you over for a visit,” he replies with a chuckle. Oh no, here comes the flushing, Woojin feels himself barely suppressing his smile. 

 

“Ah, yes about that…” Woojin finds a way to phrase his words in his head. “Will it really be okay if I do, though? I mean, I do want to meet Yongbok and all, but I really don’t want to intrude or anything.”

 

“Nah man, it’s fine!” Chan assures him, and Woojin almost sees Chan’s eyes curve into crescent moons in his head. “We’re totally cool with it. Like I said, my grandmother’s especially excited to see you again. When will you be available?”

 

They eventually decide that Woojin’ll pick Chan up on Saturday morning, once Yongbok has cleared his post-therapy examination. When he gets off the phone, Woojin actually leaps off his seat in joy. 

  
  


> **09:01PM | Grizz:** … I still can’t believe your stupid plan worked.

  
  


Woojin arrives a nervous 30 minutes early from the stipulated meeting time, but it was all worth it. Bang Chan’s grandmother warmly invited Woojin in for a cup of tea, and Woojin actually walked in on Chan happily in the middle of dressing up _. In the middle of the goddamned kitchen?! _

 

“I uh….” Woojin had choked, hating his voice for cracking like a prepubescent teen. “Good morning.”  _ His eyes are on his head, Kim Woojin! _

 

“Hey Woojin! You’re early,” Bang Chan had said incredibly casually, completely unfazed, as though they were having a simple discussion about the weather. He swiped a white button-up to put on, and Woojin spent the subsequent car ride to the hospital frantically ridding the sinful image of Chan’s milky expanse of skin off his mind.

 

He finds himself hesitating at the door to Yongbok’s ward, suddenly feeling as though he is about to step into Chan’s very much private life. He swallows, his hand resting on the doorknob, but Chan’s smaller one presses on the wood next to him. 

 

“Come on,” he gently prompts, pushing the door open before Woojin could have any other second thoughts. The air is immediately warmer and smelt distinctively of something sterile,  _ iodofoam _ , he recalls, giving his nose a couple of dismissive snorts to adjust to the new setting.

 

“Hey, Fe, how are you doing?” Chan calls out, his voice soft. Sitting in the bed is a head of strawberry blonde hair half-buried in a comic book that looks up at the both of them. Immediately Woojin is met with a pair of stunning round eyes that resembled that of the boy in their grandmother’s photo to a tee. 

 

Chan approaches the younger boy, bending over the bed to give his brother’s head of pink hair an affectionate tousle in greeting, but Yongbok doesn’t respond to his brother at all, his attention fixed on someone else over his older sibling’s shoulder.

 

“You brought a bloke here?”

 

Though it was uttered in English, Woojin somehow knows that he was talking about him, and he blinks, realising that he’s still standing rooted at the doorway a few feet away from the brothers. Chan turns around, a degree of excitement sparking in his eyes and instinctively Woojin finds himself taking trusting steps forward.

 

“Ah, yes. This is Woojin. He was the one that--”

 

“Oh, I know that name. Sent me this, right?” Switching promptly back to Korean, Yongbok nods to the fruit basket to his right, so colourful, elaborate and needlessly extravagant that Woojin feels himself cringing inwardly. Yongbok (or Felix, Woojin figures he should start referring to him as in his head) gives him a toothy grin. “Also the guy that sent you here a week ago, that day where you nearly lost your phone? Thank you for that, I really appreciate it. My brother here can really be forgetful when he’s in panic mode.”

 

Chan laughs, patting Woojin on the shoulder as he approaches while Woojin tries his best to not freak out over the fact that Chan has even mentioned his name to someone else aside from his grandmother.  “Don’t expose me like that. He’s also the one that supplied us Nana’s new table at our house.”

 

Woojin debates between a “you’re welcome” and a “no problem” but eventually settles for a simple handshake when the younger boy extends his hand out towards him. Felix’s doe-eyes dart around the room again and his brows furrow in confusion when he realises that there’s someone missing. “Wait, where’s Nana?” 

 

With his hand still on Woojin’s shoulder, he feels Chan flinch at the boy’s question. Woojin had found it strange that the kind old lady hadn’t tagged along with the two of them, but hadn’t found the need to ask why, assuming that she already had other plans. 

 

“Um.. Nana couldn’t come today because she…” Chan sounds uncharacteristically uncomfortable, “took up a shift at the street cleaning company-”

 

“You mean she’s picking up garbage again?!” Felix demands with a burst of anger that Woojin nearly jumps at the sudden change in his character. “Chris, you promised me that you wouldn’t let her do that again.”

 

Chan bows his head, lowering himself to a stool next to his brother. “I know I did, Fe, and I’m sorry. But she did it so that I could come and see you. They didn’t need me for night shifts at the gas station anymore, and money from our parents don’t come in another two weeks or so… You know her, Felix. She always wants to pull her weight in the family.”

 

A scoff. “Don’t talk about pulling weights in the family when you’re in front of the most useless member,” Felix grunts bitterly, shifting in his position away from Chan, who simply lets out a weary sigh, combing his brother’s soft hairs with his fingers. “You know I don’t mean that,” he whispers, but the younger boy merely folds his lips between his teeth, though not outrightly rejecting his brother’s administrations.

 

Woojin immediately feels a strong surge of sympathy for the siblings, and touched by the amount of love Chan has for Felix. He pulls over and slips into a stool next to Chan, putting his hand on the railing of the bed. Chan blinks, remembering the companion he had brought. “S-sorry you had to see that, Woojin.” But he simply places his other hand onto Chan’s shoulder, giving him a soft smile. 

 

The door to the ward swings open again and Woojin swivels his head around to see a handsome young doctor entering with a clipboard. “Yongbok, it’s time for your afternoon medications… ah,” he says, looking up from his papers and noticing the two other males in the room. “You’re here, Chan. Yongbok said you’d be dropping by.”

 

“Hello, Seungmin,” Chan greets the doctor with polite familiarity. Felix snaps his head around, his eyes widening as he pushes himself to sit up straight in his bed. “H-Hey, Seungmin,” he stammers, adjusting the blankets around him. Woojin notes the younger boy’s flustered actions, feeling his eyebrow raise in questioning. “You’re delivering my medications?”

 

“No, the nurse will be here soon with your pills. I’ll just be checking your vitals.” the doctor replies passively, his monotonous voice contrasting Felix’s high-toned surprise. He looks back down onto his papers, not seeing the way Felix’s face falls. Woojin does, though, and gradually he feels a knowing smile spreading on his face. 

 

Chan and Woojin scoot out of the way to allow the doctor named Seungmin to do his routine around Felix, checking the numbers on the monitor and scribbling things down on his clipboard. Felix’s doe-eyes never left the doctor, his lips parting then closing as though finding a way to start a conversation with him. “So… How’s your--”

 

The young doctor didn’t hear him, or didn’t let him finish.

 

“Chan, I’ll need you to come with me to a consultation room so that the head doctor can fill you in on any subsequent therapy Yongbok may require and his discharge details.”

 

Next to him, Felix’s older brother blinks, stunned to have been suddenly called to question. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be with you in a second.” And Seungmin is out of the door, the ends of his white coat swishing out of sight around the corner. 

 

_ Yikes, who let the cold air in? _ Woojin can’t help but wonder. If the brothers are comfortable enough to be on first-name basis with the doctor, surely they’ve known each other for a long time and would have gotten close. But Seungmin’s aura of professionalism doesn’t seem to be suggesting so at all. 

 

“You’ll be okay here with Felix, Woojin?” Still watching over the young male staring longingly after his doctor like a puppy waiting for his owner to come home, Woojin nods in response to Chan’s question, a smirk on his face.

 

Maybe they have something to connect over, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BACK! I'm so sorry this took so long to come out but school has been a pain in the ass (you know, the usual excuses) and writer's block has been a poopyhead BUT I'M BACK. Hope you guys still stuck around and if you did, let me know what you feel about this in the comments below!
> 
> Also I've created a Twitter account you can all follow at @woogibearx where I post dance covers, art and a lot... a lot of memes. Drop me a mention if you decide to commit to that stuff! Let's talk about our boys and hype things up for their comeback BECAUSE GAH I CAN'T BREATHE THEY LOOK AMAZING.
> 
> Jae


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